


The Hall Family *Working Title*

by oOReaOo



Series: Concepts [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, Hood Story, Just an idea that came to me, Other, Somewhat inspired by Bastard Out of Carolina, implications of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOReaOo/pseuds/oOReaOo
Summary: June 6th, 1994, 3:32 am, was the exact time I was born. The details tend to waver from person to person - but I’m fairly certain those are correct.





	

I was born under an ugly sea green house at the end of brook street in the hood side of Los Angeles, California. My mother, Mary Selena Hall, was 15 years old. Under such unusual circumstances, my grandmother forfeited going to the hospital, so I was delivered in the comfort of our dimly lit basement by my grandmother and Aunt Harper. 

 

No one in my family was a doctor. No one in my family had gone to university, either. It was a miracle I was born without any problems. Or maybe, like I grew up to be, I just complied to the universe and rather let things flow instead of cause any problems. But don’t take that the wrong way, I’m by no means passive. In fact, I grew up in the wrong place to be passive. Passive got you killed. But that is a story for another day. 

 

June 6th, 1994, 3:32 am, was the exact time I was born. The details tend to waver from person to person - but I’m fairly certain those are correct. Not that anyone could prove me wrong - I could simply state a random date and time and I’d be born then. Being a bastard I had that leisure. But of course, the lack of a birth certificate meant no jobs and no school. Actually, no birth certificate literally meant I didn’t exist under government circumstances. I was invisible, not to the human eye but state records - which gave plenty of advantages as long as I didn’t get caught doing anything illegal. 

 

I started homeschooling at the age of 3. Uncle Shawn was the only one in the family to start attending university that year, so my mother made him teach me math. I was the baby of the family, below my mom, of 17 people. All attention had shifted to finding your own next meal to making sure I had my food covered for the next week. I wasn’t spoiled - in fact, food was still scarce when I was young and I spent a majority of my childhood living off of one, sometimes two, meals a day. 

 

I spoke my first word at the age of 4, which is incredibly late. My mother believed I was a mute and she often cried because she didn’t want her child to grow up and be called ‘retarded’ by other people. I wasn’t close to retarded, and, regardless, she shouldn't have been ashamed of a retarded child given our living situation. I was the type to observe and watch. My second word wasn’t spoken until I was nearly 5 but by then I was reading chapter books and comprehending TV shows, the occasional novela or news cast my grandmother would watch. 

 

I was able to write by 6. My handwriting was messy as any 6 year old’s handwriting should be, but I had the unfortunate problem of being left handed. This issue led my mother to frantically teach me to use my right hand which was followed by endless afternoons of writing my ABC’s as clearly and as neatly with my right hand. As of today, I’m ambidextrous. Though my left hand is still my most dominant hand I know better than to use it when I’m around my mother. It was always puzzling why she was so against it. But then I met Mr. Robert. 

 

Mr. Robert was my mother’s history teacher in high school. I’ve never gotten the full story and I don’t intend to force my mother to bring the memories back up so I’ve come to acquire the short version through my experiences and what others have told me.   
Mr. Roberts was having an affair with my mother. Being only 15 at the time, my mom was still a virgin and she didn’t want to have sex which was perfectly understandable. Mr. Roberts instead raped her. My mother, being a Hall, didn’t let that sit quietly and told everyone she could speak too. My grandparents pitched all their money in for a lawyer and they took Mr. Robert to court. Regardless of the evidence, my mother lost and Mr. Robert returned to teaching. 2 Months later she found out that I was slowly but surely developing in the womb and was quick to tell everyone except for Mr. Robert. Somehow he found out. 

 

This ended up in a custody battle which surprisingly didn’t reopen Mr. Robert’s rape case. My mother instead of a lawyer represented herself and surprisingly won (though maybe her being the mother had something to do with it). Mr. Roberts apparently left. I didn’t meet him again until I was 16 myself. 

 

I was no longer being kept in the house anymore, and I often walked around with friends. This one particular day I was with my Aunt Harper grocery shopping when she pulled my arm and yanked me out of the store. Behind us, Mr. Robert was asking questions about my mother. My Aunt tried to fight him off, but Mr. Robert said one particular thing that caught my attention. He wanted to see his child, and he wanted at least joint custody. He went on to say that with his stable money, said child could be sent to university, have a better life than the usual Hall, all things appealing. He bent down to write his number and suddenly the answer to my mom's phobia of people being left handed was shown. 

 

Despite our strikingly similar heights, eyes, and hair, we were both left handed. 

Looking back, it’s a bit odd that he couldn’t recognize himself as I literally look like a fetus version of him from the 60’s in an emo phase. But I presume that he believed I was Aunt Harper’s son as I oddly look like a product her and Uncle shane would’ve produce as well (Strange. Us Halls all look like siblings. Not a single person out of place yet.)


End file.
